


don't act like it's a bad thing

by weatheredlaw



Series: radio edit [3]
Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Blow Jobs, F/M, M/M, Mild Language, Mild Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-25
Updated: 2014-08-25
Packaged: 2018-02-14 17:17:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2200266
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/weatheredlaw/pseuds/weatheredlaw
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"You've met my weird friends. I figure it's only fair I meet yours."</p>
            </blockquote>





	don't act like it's a bad thing

**Author's Note:**

> the continuation of the unlikely saga that seems to be tucker 'n grif. tucker's job is inspired by my own explorations into my future probably career as an IT girl, let's be real. caboose's is inspired by the nice lady who took care of my first traffic ticket.

It's one in the morning, and Grif is driving him fucking crazy.

"Dude, you've gotta stop, I'm gonna freak out."

"Oh, is this not, like, okay with you?"

"You're such a--" Tucker moans, hips punching up as Grif leans forward, teeth digging in, _sharp_ , just under his jaw. Less talking, he figures. Probably get what he wants. God, he's tired. He's _so tired_ and he just wants to get fucked and go to sleep. Grif's had him wired for thirty minutes, like a _fucking asshole_ , and all he wants is this, all he wants is exactly what he's getting, sure, but he also wants more and something not quite like this at all.

Tucker hears the sound of the lube bottle popping open and it takes a lot of willpower not to literally _weep_ when Grif's fingers start circling, opening him up. 

"You talk big, but you're happy right here, aren't you?

"Uh-huh. Yeah, just--"

"Stop talking." Tucker closes his mouth. Grif's always a little bossy right before he fucks him -- it's one of his most endearing qualities. "This is the best part." He rolls the condom over his dick, slicking himself up before pushing Tucker's legs back. " _Best_ part." Tucker grits his teeth as Grif slides in. It never feels awesome, but it's less about that and more about the way Grif looks at him, forehead pressed against his, eyes half-closed and his face completely different. Like the whole thing is smiling. 

Sometimes Tucker thinks about the way Grif fucks him and realizes he's a complete and total mess for this dude.

 

 

 

It may have taken six weeks to learn Grif's first name, but it takes at least three months for Grif to figure out what Tucker's actual job is. 

For the record? He's an IT manager at a courthouse. And it's the most actively shitty job he's ever had.

"Yeah, that sounds pretty fucking awful."

Tucker rolls over in bed and shoves his face into a pillow. "Please don't make it worse."

"Jesus, what do you even _do_?"

"Fix printers. Technically I'm supposed to be keeping the private servers secure, but they outsourced that to another company last year. So now I just answer phones and ask people to make sure the fax machine isn't actually _off_." Grif starts laughing, the kind that Tucker's come to realize won't stop for a while. "I'm going to smother you with this pillow. Like, right now."

"Oh man. That fuckin' sucks."

"Yeah, because I was really enjoying this relationship, too."

"I'm sorry. I'll stop, I will." He gasps for breath and tries to hold it in, but ends up laughing for another five minutes. Tucker just rolls back over, puts a pillow over his face, and dies a little. "Hey. _Hey._ " Grif's finally done and he pulls Tucker onto his back with a smile. "Come on, I'm sorry." 

"You're so full of shit."

"Yeah, but I _sound_ convincing, which is the important part." 

"Guess so." Tucker grunts as Grif rolls over on top of him, mouth pressed against his neck as he starts working his way down. "Is this like a _sorry I'm the least supportive boyfriend ever_ blowjob?"

"Mmhm."

"Aw, you're so sweet."

"It's all for you."

 

 

 

"When do we get to meet Grif?" Caboose asks one day, kinda out of the fucking blue. He works in the same building as Tucker for the small claims department, processing something incredibly dull and menial.

"Uh, what?"

"His name is Grif isn't it?" Caboose looks worried, upset that he may have screwed that up. Tucker nods. "Oh good."

"Uh, I mean. You can whenever. He just doesn't come out a lot." That's totally made up, and if Church were here, he'd absolutely call him out on it. Caboose is easier to lie to, which only makes Tucker feel a little bad, since he's not really interested in his obnoxious friends scaring Grif away. But suddenly he's telling Caboose, "Maybe this weekend," and "We could go out together," and he kind of wants to die. 

"Oh! That would be fun. I think we'll like him. Don't you?"

Tucker sighs and shoves the rest of his sandwich into his mouth. "Yeah, I hope so."

 

 

 

Tucker invents a hundred excuses in his head for why Grif can't go out with them on Saturday, but none of them make sense - Grif shows up to the bar later than everyone else after work, Simmons in tow. Tucker's glad he brought him, just because he's not sure how badly his friends will fuck this whole thing up. 

But as desperate as Tucker seems to think the situation is, Grif does what he always does, which is make something out of nothing, do a great thing with just a little -- it's one of those lazy-guy things he brags about, being able to summon the will power to make things happen, even after spending most of the day in bed. "Who wants beers?" he asks. "I'll buy a round."

Church raises an eyebrow appreciatively. Tex looks impressed. "We'll take a couple here. Caboose?"

"Two please!"

Grif smiles and gestures for Simmons to help him out. Tex watches them go. "He seems nice."

"She'll say anything for a beer," Church mutters, and the smack in the back of the head he gets is totally deserved. 

"I'm serious. Guy meets us, buys us all a round? It's a good sign. Good move, Tucker."

"Dude, you know her. You know what she'll do for free alcohol."

Tucker leans back and groans. "Oh my God I hate you both."

"I like him," Caboose says simply, and Sheila nods. "He has a good smile."

Grif and Simmons come back with the beers and there's a quick nod of agreement between everyone -- men who buy beers are good men, indeed. Tucker just kind of wants to cry because no one's said anything like, _how big is your dick_ in some kind of drunken dare to be the first one to scare of Tucker's new whatever -- because that's what Church calls them. _Whatevers._

"I mean your boss was a little hard to deal with," is where Tucker zones back into the conversation -- Tex and Simmons are talking about the wedding, which Church looks about as thrilled to relive as that time he apparently got a prostate exam. 

"He's a dick," Grif cuts in. "I mean, he's our boss, so like, he's supposed to be?"

"Sarge isn't a dick, he's--"

"Wait." Church sets his beer down. "You call him _Sarge_?" Simmons and Grif both shrug at exactly the same time, like that's the way the cookie fucking crumbles or something, and Church cackles. Because he's just beyond laughter, at this point. "Oh man, that's great. Does he make you guys do pushups when he's pissed?"

"Church."

"Oh come _on_. It's fucking hilarious." It's around this point that everyone at the table, including Grif and Simmons, decide it is, too. And really, that's all Tucker can ask for.

 

 

 

"I liked them." Grif peels off his shirt and snifs it, making a face before he folds it up on the chair in the bedroom. "Your friend Church is kind of a dick, though. In a mostly endearing way. But also the kind of way that would make me want to hit him."

"Dude, that's like his permanent state of being. The only reason Tex can handle it is because she's _also_ a dick." Tucker sits on the bed to take off his boots and looks up. "Thanks for coming out."

"You've met my weird friends. I figure it's only fair I meet yours." Grif comes around the bed and settles himself between Tucker's knees, leaning down to kiss him. "They're important to you. So they're important to me."

"You won't feel that way in a couple of weeks."

Grif shrugs. "You've put up with Donut."

"I'm just a martyr. What can I say?" 

"You could say, _Thanks, Grif, for being the best boyfriend ever. I sure would like to give you a blow job later._ Or something like that."

Tucker pushes him back and laughs. "Get a shower, dipshit. You smell like steak."

**Author's Note:**

> i think the next couple are going to be deviating away from the tucker/grif dynamic -- i'd like to flesh out the caboose/sheila stuff (my favorite au ship, lbr), as well as the church/tex relationship.


End file.
